Seeds Have Yet to be Sown

Victoria Morillo

To me, resilience isn’t necessarily just about overcoming great difficulty; but rather, resilience
can also be the overcoming of minute obstacles in our everyday lives. A lot of the time, the burden of
the day before weighs me down, so the simple act of getting out of bed every morning often feels too
exhausting, especially knowing that the same obstacles are waiting to be overcome again. With this
poem, I offer a glimpse into the all-consuming thoughts that occupy my mind and the influence it has
on what I perceive to be resilience.
I wanted readers to start a new day with me, to hear and feel what awaits outside. As a result, I
chose to explore the relationship I have with my anxiety through this metaphorical tug-of-war between
nature and I. The poem is a constant back and forth struggle of power—of who ultimately has the
upper-hand at any given moment. One of the places we see this is when the human act of cutting grass
and weeds elicits nature’s response to immediately grow them back. We also see this struggle at play
when wind and severe weather destroys any sense of stillness, leaving me to deal with the consequences.
Here, nature’s role is a direct reflection of the omnipresence of my anxiety, cementing itself as an
intrinsic part of my world.
The visual fragmentation of words mirrors this turmoil. I wanted the fragments to feel as if
they were in conflict with one another, fighting to be seen, with some fragments being larger than
others. As they make their way through the poem, I want readers to feel as if they’re being thrown
around, trying to look for the next fragment of words to piece together. Though, within the jumble of
words, I hope readers can recognize somebody who is trying to make sense of it all, which is ultimately

what the lines connecting certain fragments together signify: the ability to find the meaning within the
chaos.
At the end of the poem, I wanted the presentation of a new day to be gentle, juxtaposing it
with the turbulence of what came before. My intention was for it to serve as a reminder that there are
things that are simply out of my control and that being gifted another day is not a punishment, but
rather an opportunity to start again. In addition, the seeds represent the experiences I have yet to
encounter, dreams left to attain, and memories to be reminisced. In the end, I have control of when
they are sown and the way in which they are fostered.
Ultimately, I wanted to offer a different perspective of what it means to be resilient. It may not
always be as clear cut as getting up after being knocked down and merely brushing it off. But being
able to sit with these obstacles, welcoming them—though, not letting them overstay their welcome—is
perhaps what I wish for readers to take away from this poem the most.
There’s a certain liberation when knowing that my anxiety will likely never leave. It’s a life
partner that can come and go as it pleases. Some days it’s harsh, and others it’s kind. But I know it’s
something I can take on, one day at a time.